


The Roving Heart

by thatoneshippyblog



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Canon-Typical Violence, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Slow Build, cross faction
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-24
Updated: 2015-02-24
Packaged: 2018-03-14 23:53:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3430217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatoneshippyblog/pseuds/thatoneshippyblog
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Scout never asked for his lot in life. Bad enough to be the runt of the litter, younger and smaller than all his brothers, but an omega as well? Seemed like a lame ass joke to him, one that made his stomach churn, fear and rage boiling within him as he worked tooth and nail to prove that he was far from a fucking joke.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Roving Heart

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Cyristal_Artist](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cyristal_Artist/gifts).



> For [cyristal-artist,](http://cyristal-artist.tumblr.com/) who's waited long enough. 
> 
> I'll add tags as the chapters go up, but it will contain knotting and mpreg in later chapters. Not this one, though, as it's just setting up the setting and conflicts. Also, there will be no consent issues. 
> 
> Not beta read, so all mistakes are my own. Feedback appreciated (especially since I haven't played tf2 in a while, so I might not be remembering things correctly heh).

Scout never asked for his lot in life. Bad enough to be the runt of the litter, younger and smaller than all his brothers, but an omega as well? Seemed like a lame ass joke to him, one that made his stomach churn, fear and rage boiling within him as he worked tooth and nail to prove that he was far from a fucking joke.

Some days, he could hold his head high, his snarl turning into a smirk as he stood over the bloodied jackass who thought cracking jokes about his status was a good idea.

Some days, all he wanted to do was crawl into some hole and hide, hide himself from the ridicule and from his own shame as he let his eyes get watery.

On those days, though, all it took to lift his spirits, to get his fight back, was the thought of his mother. Traditional omega was she, with her neat appearance and eight children, but say one wrong word to her, and she'd fuck your shit up. Especially if it concerned the fact that her eight children came from three different sires.

His ma's the reason he was even noticed by Builders League United. If she hadn't treated him like the rest of his brothers, if she hadn't shown him omegas could stand tall and deal damage, Scout figured he would've been training to run for a different reason.

But she encouraged him when he said he wanted to be the first one to a fight, praised him when he came home with lighter bruises compared to his brothers. His Ma always told him never take anything lying down, and to always be quick with his punches, be precise with his hits.

So he fought and talked when he should've stayed down and quiet. He even began to make a name for himself, became something like a lightning bruiser in the neighborhood.

No one treated him like an omega, and most forgot he was one altogether. Even his brothers sometimes forgot his status, though they hardly cared to begin with.

So when that contract appeared, when that chance to make thousands in the name of something called BLU came in the hands of a beautiful woman named Miss Pauling, Scout all but jumped at the chance to sign up.

Until he saw the blank where his status went.

His hand hesitated.

Until his Ma once again gave him the answer.

"And you're okay with taking a beta for this position?" she asked, giving his shoulder a squeeze.

Miss Pauling smiled. "That's no problem, ma'am."

"Sorry, it's just he's my baby boy," she cooed, playing up the whole doting mother routine, complete with cheek pinching, that usually caused others to underestimate her.

"Ma," he not-really-whined, lightly swatting away her hand and rubbing his cheek.

Miss Pauling laughed, quickly covering her mouth as if it were a cough. She cleared her throat. "Really, ma'am, it's no worry. There are five other betas on the team, so they'll outnumber the alphas."

"Well, if you say so," his Ma said with a pout to her lips.

He never got tired of her acting.

"Does he have to leave right away?"

"Ma." That time, he really did whine.

Trying not to show her amusement, Miss Pauling shook her head. "Our departure isn't until tomorrow night, ma'am." She glanced at Scout. "I'll pick you up, okay?"

He just shrugged then winced when his mother hit him upside the head. "Ow, okay, okay. That'll be nice, thanks."

With a final small quirk of the lips, Miss Pauling left.

His Ma turned to him the moment the door shut. "Be careful around her," she said quietly, tone firm. "She's an alpha."

"Really?"

"Don't give me that, I've shared a bed with three of them enough to know the difference."

Knowing better than to challenge her, and definitely not wanting to know the details of his mother's sex life, he simply nodded. "Yes, ma'am."

Satisfied, his Ma began flipping through her address book. "I need to make a call. You can't go off on a team with alphas without a supply of suppressants."

"As if I'd give them the opportunity," he said, very close to growling at the mere thought.

His Ma smirked. "That's my boy, but you still need them." She raised an eyebrow, amusement on her features. "Don't want to invite a dick or an ovi in, now do we?"

He rolled his eyes. "Can we not have the sex talk. _Again_." He was too old to blush in front of his mother.

"Just trying to prepare my son for the real world," she practically sing-songed as she disappeared into the kitchen.

He pretended to be offended until he couldn't contain his smile any longer. A job, fighting people, that'll get him a shit ton of money.

What other omega in the city could boast that?

———

His Ma made him promise to call her at least once a month, and it's a promise he fulfilled for the last two years. He'd be damned if he neglected that promise all because the old angry woman didn't want to let them have a moment's peace that month.

Today's target was Teufort, and the thirty second warning sounded. Cussing, Scout made his way to the battlement opening, limbering up as his teammates filed in. Looked like the call would have to wait. 

Soldier, ever the beta who shouted to overcompensate for his lack of alpha status, yelled what he thought was motivation to capture the enemy intelligence. He gave a special finger point to Scout, like always, to quit showboating instead of just capturing quickly. Scout merely grinned and gave him a half-hearted salute, which caused Soldier to snort .

The five second warning saw Scout readying his gun with a grin as he thanked Medic for the quick overheal. Time began, and Scout sped out the gates, narrowly missing several rockets on his way.

Running never took much brain work; it came second nature to him now, almost more so than breathing, and Scout loved it. He loved it because he was the fastest, which meant he was usually the first out on the battlements, weapon in hand for some world of hurt, and today was no exception.

He loved his job, loved shooting the enemy point blank and then giving them a bat to the face while they were distracted. It got his blood pumping and adrenaline spiking as he never stopped moving, never stopped being aware of not only stickies or running into the RED Pyro but his teammates' positions as well.

Teamwork, and all that jazz.

Scout kept a special eye out for Medic, and not just because the team needed their healer. No, if not for Medic, Scout might have gone nuts the last two years. 

"Assistance, bitte!" 

_Speaking of,_ Scout thought as he shifted direction, scattergun poised. Once he realized the RED Soldier had just finished blowing Heavy to bits and was about to deal some serious damage to Medic, though, he made a mad dash for Medic's location, quickly pulling out his bat.

"Batter up!" Scout called as he got closer, and when the RED Soldier turned, Scout gave him a bat to the face, grinning at the resulting _crunch._ He added a shot to the chest, just to be safe. "You alright, doc?" 

"Danke, Herr Scout," Medic said as he collected himself. He gave a critical look over Scout, eyes narrowing. "You look pink."

Scout snorted. "And you're covered in blood," he countered as he reloaded.

Blinking, Medic looked over himself. "Why, so I am!" he said pleasantly as he aimed his crossbow at one of the windows in the RED base and fired.

"Try not to have too much fun," Scout said with a grin as Heavy, scowling something fierce, came out of their base.

Medic returned the grin — though, his was slightly more sinister — as he gave Scout an overheal. "Only if you try not to have fun killing all the RED alphas when you go for their briefcase, liebchen." For added measure, he batted his eyelashes at him. 

Shaking his head in amusement — Medic was the only teammate who knew his status, and that was only because Medic is a nosy motherfucker — and giving a half-hearted salute, Scout ran off, jumping down into the water and waiting a bit under the surface. 

Despite it being a cool day at Teufort, Scout had begun to grow warm. It didn't bother him at first, thought it was just him getting a little too close to being ignited by Pyro, but assisting Medic made the warmth a little more noticeable. Being under the water, though, cooled him enough to continue his job. 

He resurfaced and ran into the RED base. 

Giving a quick check to see if the coast was clear, Scout ran toward RED's intel room, grinning to himself when no sight or sound of a sentry could be found. 

Double checking that no one was around, Scout made a break for the briefcase, his fingers so close to touching. 

A pain flared at his back, paralyzing him as he yelled. The knife disappeared, and as he fell to the ground, Scout heard a chuckle. 

"I thought you were supposed to be good at dodging," the RED Spy said, lighting a cigarette with a grin, and all Scout could do was think _fuck you_ as his world grew dark. 

Once the dizzying process of respawning ended, Scout cursed. He hated being killed by that backstabber. He ran out of the resupply, vowing to find the bastard and repay the favor.

Only, he began to grow warm again, at an alarming rate, so much so that he had to stop running to _catch his breath_. Ducking somewhere a RED wouldn't immediately notice, Scout gasped as his knees almost gave out. He sank to ground, actually panting.

He could only remember feeling this way once, and his mind raced as he tried to remember when he last took his pills. They'd been busy this month, battles nearly every day that lasted well into the night, and his mind hadn't been on _those_ kind of cycles. The realization that he forgot this month's pills made him pale. Of all the times to go into heat.

Legs unsteady as he got off the floor, Scout cussed, leaning against a wall and scanning what he could see of the RED base. That respawn fucked him up and, combined with the fact he didn't take his meds, caused his body to speed up the process. He needed to get away, hide, something, and _fast_.

He climbed the stairs as quickly as he could, hoping for an open window to use for escape. Hell, he'd settle for sticky bombs or rockets right about now. Something quick to get him back at respawn so he could AWOL off to some remote and secure location.

Two years without a heat, and now it all came crashing down. Silently, he thanked his luck that Pyro — both of them — liked to go crazy with their flamethrowers; it was a decent mask to cover his scent, but it wouldn't last for long, not if things kept progressing like this.

Damn him for forgetting his suppressants.

Trying to stifle his panting, Scout made it to the top of the stairs, nearly tumbling, and he let out a relieved sigh. Almost there, and a good thing, too, as he was beginning to lose his coordination.

A noise caught his attention, the shift of clothes, the light rattle of a fucking rifle, and Scout glanced up, wide eyed, at the RED Sniper.

For the longest second, neither moved, Scout too startled and _hazy_ to really do anything but watch as the RED Sniper blinked at him. Time caught up again, and the Sniper raised his weapon, aimed it at Scout's forehead, a hint of a smirk on his lips. Scout chose to glare then, deciding a headshot would be the quicker way back to base, but that didn't mean he had to like it.

After this mess ended, Scout promised himself to find this fucker on the battlefield again for some payback.

The headshot never came, though. Instead, Sniper lowered his rifle, brow furrowed, head tilting in what Scout thought was confusion as the marksman _sniffed_.

Scout froze. A litany of _oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck_ ran through his head as Sniper actually put down his rifle and approached.

"Come any closer and I'll rip ya throat out," Scout close to snarled, voice rough as he tried to say each word clearly. His body still didn't want to cooperate, but he'd be damned if he didn't try to do _something._

His words seemed to stop the RED Sniper, though, so he counted it as a small success.

"Feisty little thing," the Australian muttered as he brandished one of his piss jars. He continued walking toward Scout.

"If you throw that at me, I'm cuttin' off your dick with your own knife," Scout growled.

The RED Sniper simply snorted, unscrewing the cap and pouring it on Scout anyway despite the protests. "Stop trying to get rid of it," Sniper nearly snapped when Scout wouldn't stop moving. "It'll mask ya scent for a bit, now move."

Instead of waiting for Scout to follow the instruction, the Sniper simply grabbed hold of Scout's arm and hauled him upright. Without waiting for any comment, he began walking away from the battlements, taking Scout with him through the backways of the RED base.

He'd bite his tongue off before ever admitting it, but Scout was slightly grateful for the, albeit rough, assistance in walking. His body still didn't want to cooperate for shit.

Still, he wouldn't stay quiet while the bastard just dragged him away somewhere. "The hell you takin' me?" Scout tried to make it another snarl, but the pressure on his arm was screwing with his brain.

"Quit yapping, brat, and keep moving," was all the Sniper said. He glanced at Scout, eyes narrowing. "Or do you want the other alphas to find ya?"

Scout paled slightly. "Fine," he mumbled, "but I'm watching you." Because the RED Sniper just confirmed Scout's suspicions: the RED bastard _was_ an alpha, and like hell would he let his guard down in front of one, a RED or otherwise.

He tried to pay attention to his surroundings, but the majority of his focus was centered on staying _focused_ ; with an alpha so close to him, especially since it's been a couple of years since a heat, Scout felt his cool begin to slip away, and he desperately clung to it. 

"Okay, get in."

Blinking, Scout focused his attention on the fact that they had stopped in front of a camper van, and the RED Sniper held the door open, expectantly looking at him. 

Scout blinked again, the chill down his spine at war with the heat in his gut. "The fuck, no way." 

Panic began to rise, but he made himself keep a level head. He still had his weapons, and he'd proven he could swing his bat faster than the bastard could draw his big ass knife. Still, in his condition, that might not be enough, but Scout refused to let that stop him and _definitely_ refused to take anything lying down.

"You're driving my patience, whelp," Sniper muttered, a glint to his eyes as he all but pushed Scout into the camper.

And then he closed the door.

"Wha..." Scout blinked as he found himself in the mildly disheveled camper without the one who resides within it.

A click sounded as Sniper locked the door from the outside. "Clean up or make a mess if you want, just try to keep quiet while you ride it out." Then the silence stretched.

Bewildered, Scout merely stood there, unsure of what was even happening. He tried to not to tremble as he looked around, but the smell of the place, of the RED Sniper, sent his mind further into the hazy labyrinth of arousal. Scout had never been so surrounded by an alpha's scent during his heat before. With each breath, his knees shook, and something hot pooled into his belly, slowly making its way down toward...

 _No freakin' way are you gonna do that here,_ he mentally scolded himself as he caught his hand traveling to his groin of its own accord.

A treacherous little voice in his head echoed the Sniper's words: _make a mess_.

Shaking those thoughts away, Scout forced his feet to the little sink, and he forced himself to wash off the piss. The cool water did nothing to relieve the warmth of his skin, and to his dismay, he found washing to be more... exciting than he'd planned. 

Grunting in frustration, Scout shut off the water and pushed away from the sink, but there was nowhere else to go; he was confined in a place that reeked of an alpha, and his legs didn't want to hold him up anymore. 

What did him in, though, but spotting the bed. Tons of images, all of them less than decent, flashed through his head, and the crushing arousal that followed brought him to his knees, a moan escaping his mouth. 

With that, Scout gave into his body's desire, his hand reaching for his cock and his mind supplying him with filthy scenarios, nearly all of them ending with him on his hands and knees while he's being knotted. 

_Fuck,_ Scout thought as he came, dick still hard and body still hot. _I'm so fucked._

He continued moving his hand. 

———

A bird's obnoxious ass song brought him back from his death-like sleep, and Scout grudgingly opened his eyes, blinking lazily as he began to stretch.

He froze when his arms hit the ceiling.

Alarmed and adrenaline spiking, Scout scanned his surroundings, and his memories came back like a saw through the sternum— and he actually knew what that felt like.

 _Fuck._ The Sniper's camper looked the same, but the smell of sex lingered in the air, mingling with but not overpowering Sniper's scent. To make matters worse, he was bare ass nude and his weapons were nowhere in sight.

Hands shaking, Scout checked himself. No bruises, no marks whatsoever, and nothing felt too sore — outside of the dull cramping from sleeping on a shitty mattress.

A song caught his attention, and Scout realized what he'd mistaken for a bird warble was actually someone's _whistle_. Gingerly, he got down from the so-called bed. To the upbeat tune, he searched for his clothes and weapons, becoming more and more irritated and anxious when they wouldn't turn up anywhere.

Annoyed as hell, and trying not to think of the worst, Scout wrapped the closest piece of cloth around his waist and opened the door.

A campfire greeted him, burning brightly in the crisp twilight air. The RED Sniper sat in an old lawn chair too small for him as he lazily stoked the fire. A quilt wrapped around his body, shielding him from the chill in the air.

"Mornin', joey," the Sniper grumbled, barely looking at him. "Beginning ta think you wouldn't wake." He stretched, his arms reaching well above his head, causing the quilt to slip off of him some before he corrected it.

The setting and attitude almost distracted Scout from the situation. Too bad he was standing there in the nude, shivering from adrenaline and not the cool air. "What did you do," he ground out flatly. He didn't like how the Sniper wore only a loose tank top under that quilt.

Eyebrow raised, Sniper nodded at something to Scout's left. "Washed ya clothes yesterday."

Blinking, Scout took a glance and saw that his clothes were indeed hung on a makeshift clothes line, his bag of weapons slumped next to it. His gaze traveled back to the Sniper, lost for words.

The Sniper, though, only focused on his fire. "Can't wait to clean up me van," he muttered.

The way the RED Sniper held himself, nonchalant and _bored_ , as if in the presence of a helpless critter instead of a capable mercenary, made Scout's blood boil.

Baring his teeth, Scout snatched his clothes off the wire. "You wanna fight, old man," he challenged as he hastily pulled his pants on, toeing his bag.

The bastard actually snorted. "Like I'd fight you."

And that was the last straw. 

"What, you think I can't fight just cause I'm a fucking omega?" Scout snarled, more livid than he could ever remember. "Well, fuck you, kangaroo, I can kick your ass three ways till Sunday. You and any other alpha that thinks his shit don't stink. Fucking chug your own piss."

Scout didn't even have time to appreciate the stunned expression on the man's face because he did what he did best: Scout ran. Not that he couldn't fight the bastard, because he certainly could, but his adrenaline rush was wearing off and he didn't want to stumble in front of a RED. Or an alpha.

So only clad in his pants, Scout ran back to base, clutching his bag and the rest of his clothes, becoming more weary with each step.

———

BLU base was quiet as the sun just began to rise, and Scout was grateful that his team, even Soldier, liked to sleep in most days.

A nagging little thought told him to finish dressing, but he was too exhausted to bother with any effort that wasn't getting back to his room.

He had no idea how long he was gone, but he made sure to be quiet as he snuck through the base. He could be fucking sneaky when he wanted to, and now was the _ideal_ time not to be noticed.

He turned the corner and froze when he saw a figure down the hallway.

 _Fuck_ , he cussed mentally, already retreating. Of course someone would be awake right now.

"Scout?"

Breathing a sigh of relief, he turned back around, nearly stumbling in his exhaustion. "Doc..."

Medic stalked toward him, grabbing his arm none too gently and all but dragging him into his lab.

He muttered in German as he looked over Scout, and Scout was too exhausted to protest too much. Medic's voice got louder, clearly speaking to him.

"English, doc," Scout mumbled.

Medic blinked. "Forgive. You've been through a cycle." He frowned at Scout's appearance.

"No shit, Sherlock." Scout sighed, rubbing a hand over his face; he already didn't like the conversation. "Tell me something I don't know."

"Soldier nearly broke into my lab," Medic said conversationally as he adjusted his glasses.

"Uh, okay. Why?"

Medic rolled his eyes. "When you disappeared, I guessed the reason and told the others you were battling sickness," he said, getting out needles and other instruments Scout didn't want to think about.

"What you said I had?" he asked instead of addressing the fact that Medic was readying an x-ray machine.

"Something fictional and contagious." Medic waved the detail away. "Soldier, either unconvinced or unconcerned, tried to break in to... How did he put it? Ah, yes, 'get that scrawny unmotivated ass some soup' so you could return to the battlements."

Despite his weariness, Scout smiled. "What you do, sedate him?"

"Nein, Herr Heavy intervened." He sighed, though, as if an opportunity was wasted.

Knowing Medic, Scout figured that was exactly what the doc thought.

Sighing, Scout leaned back at Medic's instruction, deflating as soon as his head hit the headrest. "I'm gonna catch hell for missing — Hey, how long was I out?"

"Five days. Six, if you include this morning presently. Are your cycles usually that length?"

"I dunno, maybe."

"Precision, Herr Scout," Medic scolded.

"Look, I didn't exactly keep a fucking diary about it, okay," Scout grumbled, wincing slightly as Medic stuck him with a needle. Without warning, as usual.

"Very well." As he drew blood, Medic remained quiet. Once that task was completed and three vials labeled as Scout's blood were placed away from the possibility of breaking, Medic spoke again. "Moving on, would you be willing to try the injection now?" He looked positively hopeful.

Scout, on the other hand, felt uneasy. "Doc, c'mon, I already said I don't wanna be your lab rat," he said. Despite the fact that he already let Medic put a supercharged heart into his body. "The suppressants work fine."

"When you remember to take them," Medic said, giving him a quirked eyebrow.

"Look, we all got a lot t'deal with here. I'm not the only one who forgot stuff."

"But you are the sole omega on this team," Medic said plainly. "You can not afford to forget. Luck was on your side that an alpha did not scent you." Medic's expression didn't change, but he did glance at Scout, clearly wanting to know what had happened during the last five days. Wanted to know if an alpha _had_ scented him.

Trying not to give anything away, Scout huffed. "I know, I know, okay? Can I just try to sleep now?"

Shrugging, Medic nodded as he readied whatever else he would be using on Scout. "Ja, might as well. The others think you reside here currently." He gave Scout a sharp look. "Use the cloth before you leave, just to be safe."

"Thanks, doc," Scout mumbled, grateful, as always, the man was in on his secret. "Try not to be too rough with the check up, okay?"

"I make no promises," Medic said pleasantly, lightly patting the top of Scout's head.

Scout snorted; that was as close to a promise, and acknowledgement, as he'd get, so he relaxed some more. He let his eyes drift shut as he listened to Medic's indecipherable mumblings, trying not to think about how different it was from a certain someone's upbeat whistling.

**Author's Note:**

> As my outline is currently, this'll be no less than five chapters. Probably more, whoops.


End file.
